


stay with me

by thisisnotwhatihadplanned



Category: Twenty One Pilots
Genre: Coping, Depression, F/M, Gardening, Hiatus, Hurt/Comfort, Kinda, Love, writers block
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-28
Updated: 2019-08-28
Packaged: 2020-09-28 06:55:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 935
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20421776
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thisisnotwhatihadplanned/pseuds/thisisnotwhatihadplanned
Summary: Thank you for reading!





	stay with me

Tyler's head is somewhere up high. Maybe he's at home. He absently picks up a box of cereal. 

Jenna's talking. 

"Huh?"

"I said," she glares, "do you want pizza this week. There's a new recipie I want to try."

Pizza... recipie. His brain is lagging.

"Sure."

He puts the cereal box back on the shelf. Don't ask him what kind it was. 

Things are far away again. 

.

"I've been calling you all morning!"

"My phone's dead." He's mumbling. 

"Oh, well," Jenna's voice is still sharp. "I'm going over to Tatum's, call me if you need anything."

He wants to match her tone. 

"I'm not five, Jenna."

Jenna turns from the doorway. 

"Really? Well I've spent all week reminding you when to sleep and eat, so."

She's at the top of the stairs by now, and Tyler no longer has the energy to be angry. He deletes a file on his laptop and starts over, again. 

And again. Trench is a disaster.

.

The monster in his gut shifts in form again. He used to have too much to say, now there's not enough. He doesn't feel any lighter. 

Jenna doesn't hold him at night, and his eyes burn with tears.

.

Night time is scary again. 

Jenna made cookies, and, even though they're not to Tyler's taste-they're fig-he doesn't say anything. He doesn't even joke. 

The kitchen's poorly lit. The shadows shift. Tyler's too old to be scared by this, but he still feels the urge to look behind him. He does. 

Jenna ignores it. 

They sit at the kitchen table instead of on the floor. This means Jenna is going to talk.

"I'm sorry I've been passive aggressive lately. I'm just, oh gosh this sounds silly."

"What?" 

Jenna's voice lacks it's usual confidence. "I'm just jealous. Of your music. I mean," she gives a laugh. It's fake. "It gets more of your attention than me." 

Tyler looks down. 

"I'm sorry. Nothing's working, anyway."

He swallows a bite of cookie.

"And I'm sorry for being an asshole."

"Ty, you're feeling bad."

"That's no excuse."

Jenna bites her lip. 

"Maybe it's not."

She reaches a hand to Tyler. It's cold, and Tyler wonders how she's cold in two sweaters. It's august. 

"Miss you." 

"I'll be here more, I promise. No sleeping down there." 

She squeezes his hand. 

Jenna holds him tonight. He can get up tomorrow. 

.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"No." His voice is heavy, and Jenna can tell he's been crying. 

"I get home Monday. Please go visit your parents if it gets bad, okay?" 

"Okay."

"Love."

"Love."

.

Jenna gets off of Tyler, laying down beside him. He isn't aroused, and she can tell. His eyes aren't even on her. 

Tyler's embarassed. 

"Sorry. You're really really good, I just-  
I'm- I can't tonight. 

Her heart hurts when she sees the pain in his eyes. 

"It's okay baby. Um, are you getting bad again?" 

Tyler just nods.

"I don't feel well." 

"We're going to get you better, okay?" 

"I'm just so tired. Every time I 'get better'." Tyler spits the words out, "it just comes back worse. I don't-I can't do this much longer."

"Come here Ty." She knows there's nothing she can say that doesn't sound hollow right now. 

Jenna props herself up against their headboard, and Tyler lays his head on her stomach, just below her breasts. It isn't arousing, just comforting. And that's what Tyler needs right now. 

She strokes his hair until he falls asleep.

.

There's a bulletin board over Jenna's desk with the family calendar. Tyler notices 'call Dr. Cornfeld' in Jenna's neat writing. Part of him is angry, and part of him is too tired to care. Things just happen to him now. But a tiny sliver of him whispers that it's a good idea. 

.

There's two desk chairs in his studio now. Jenna is a good listener.

.

"Fuck!" 

Tyler slams his fists onto the keyboard. 

And then he immediately stands up. 

'Leave the situation, calm down by distraction, and come back to it with fresh eyes.'

He decides to look for his wife. 

She's in her garden, blonde hair pulled back from her face. Her freckles are showing, they usually show up when she's spent time in the sun. 

Tyler pulls off his hoodie, and opens the porch door. 

This alerts Jenna, and she greets him with a smile. 

"You came at the right time. I'm weeding." 

Tyler responds by kneeling down beside her and getting to work. 

It becomes a welcome destraction, and Tyler starts by reading about the worms that have been eating their roma tomatoes. 

He makes a trip to Lowes, and if Jenna notices it's the first time he's willingly stepped outside their backyard for months, she doesn't comment.

.

'Shower every day. Shave every week. Sleep in bed with Jenna. Eight hour limit in studio. Make plans with family once a week. Go outside.'

Tyler makes a list of the things his therapist wants him to work on, and tries not to beat himself up when he doesn't get all of it done. 

One rule he never breaks is sleeping with Jenna. He doesn't trust himself to try falling asleep alone, even if it takes hours of him lying in bed. 

.

They paint the bonus rooms upstairs. Tyler's eyes are brighter, and he makes jokes like he does when he feels okay. 

Jenna can breathe again, and Tyler has more good days than bad. 

Tyler told her once, that the key to leaving dema was to do it with banditos. Jenna's a bandito. She smiles to herself. Her husband is strange. 

Strange but good.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!


End file.
